Rickshaw
by Pontythings
Summary: Pop says that I'll fill out before my next birthday when I'll be turning seventeen. I was born in 1992. Pop would have been eleven when I was born and I don't know haw old Dad is but he's older then Pop! AU Drarry and M-Preg.
1. Into

Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? I'm not getting any money Your not getting any money! No one is getting any money!

Author's Note:?

I kicked the door open with my foot and walked in. My back hurt, my legs were sour and my pants were covered in snow. Also, my hair was a mess. I fumbled with my textbooks as I tried to close the door but just ended up dumping them all on the floor. Grumbling to my self I picked them up and headed to the kitchen for a snake.

I could smell onions frying in a pan and gave a happy sigh. After dumping my book-bag and the sofa I opened the 'fringe.

"How was your day at school?" I glanced up to see my Pop by the stove.

"Good I guess." I said before shrugging. I could see his frown and new I had given the wrong answer but my Pop just went back to the onions.

"You know it's cocoa night." It wasn't a question. Every Thursday night was cocoa night ever since first grade when some sixth grader beat me up. Me and Pop, and sometimes Dad, would sit down with hot-cocoa and we would discus the week. Well I would get interrogated for information about school. Now that I think about it cocoa night happens more than once a week. It's more like when ever my Pop can tell something happened.

"I remember." I say before going back to the 'fridge. Pop can tell just by the way you answer his 'How was you day' if something is going on. My Dad says he gets it from my grandmother. She's the type that doesn't take one word answers on the phone.

"Your father said he wont be home till late. Said he has something to do at the office." Pop looks kinda put out about this Dad's been coming home later and later these days. My Dad's like a cop or something I don't really know what he does. He never talks about it. My Pop is a doctor or he use to be before he got diagnosed with epilepsy. All the other doctors would look at him like he was going to contaminate their patents. So Pop opened his own private clinic at home. It's been doing good so far.

"Ah ha!" I gave a cry in triumph as I found a piece of cake in the back of the 'fridge from my birth day. I haven't talked about my self much now have I? Well I'm tall (seeing how I'm my Dad's boy and all) I've got dark hair but grey eyes like my Pop. Which is odd because my Dad didn't know my Pop before I was even born. And ...well...that their both men. I'm kinda lanky for my age. Pop says that I'll fill out before my next birthday when I'll be turning seventeen. I was born in 1992. Pop would have been eleven when I was born and I don't know haw old Dad is but he's older that Pop I'm shore! I was about to pick up the cake and eat it with my hands when Pop hit me on the head with the spoon.

"Ow!" I yelped and went to grab a fork when he hit me again.

"Ow! What was that for?" I glared.

"The first one was for using your hands. The second time was for trying to eat a piece of cake for a snake." Pop said with his arms crossed over his chest and one perfectly, plucked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes _Mother_." I said with a snap.

"And don't you forget it! Now don't you have homework to do?" I sighed and graded a granola bar from one of the cabinets before heading up stairs with my books.

About half an hour later Pop called for me to come down for dinner. Near the end of my French onion soup the front door slammed open before banging shut.

"Draco!" Dad was home. Pop's not one to get mad, he only gets disappointed. But Dad? That's a hole different story. When he gets pissed it's best just to stay out of the way and hope he doesn't see you. I sow Pop stiffen before answering.

"Yes Harry?" He said sheepishly.

"Get to the bedroom! We need to talk!" Pop got up quickly and rinsed his dishes and than headed up the stairs. I sow Dad stomp into the kitchen and hoped he didn't see me. I wasn't so lucky. As soon as he walked in his head snapped in my direction.

"Don't you have homework to do?" He yelled.

"I finished most of it, but than it was dinner." I knew my eyes must have been the size of saucers.

"Well hurry up!" And he stomped off. I finished up my soup and headed up stairs to eavesdrop by Dad and Pop's bedroom door.

"-could you not tell me?" I knew that was Dad. I herd a quiet sniff and knew Pop was crying. Pop's response was muffled. There was more yelling but the floor boards are creaky and I don't want to risk being herd just so I could know what they were saying.

It continued for a few minutes before a loud smack rang thru the air. I took a step back in shock. It was dead silent for what felt like hours. I herd Dad start to talk.

"Draco? I'm so sorry baby. Please look at me." His voice was soft and pleading. I knew someone was reaching for the door so I ran down stairs and turned the TV on. I herd the door bang open was I dove on the sofa. Close call. I sow Pop run down the stair and grab his coat before running outside. He always says goodbye to me when he leaves but this time he didn't even glance my way.

Dad ran in running his hand through his hair. I guess I get it from him. Dad plops down beside me on the sofa.

"He left didn't he?" My Dad turned his head toward me. His eyes were red around the rims. Dad and Pop don't believe in corporal punishment. Pop says it's because Dad had a hard time when he was a kid. Dad doesn't even speak to his relatives any more so I was shocked that Dad hit Pop. I nod my head at Dad's question. He turns away before turning back.

"Did he tack his medication?" I shook my head and Dad leaned forward to put his head in his hands.

"How much did you hear?" He whispered. I pulled my knees to my chest.

"Enough to know why he ran." Dad looked away from me and sow the cocoa sitting on the kitchen counter.

"God, it was cocoa night? I'm sorry. I know how much it means to you two. I'm so sorry." Dad thru an arm over his face. I bit my lip.

"What are you going to tell grandfather?" My Dad shot up like a spring.

"Shit! We were going to his place tonight weren't we! Dame! I'll just tell his we can't come over. Family matters and all. Do you think he will believe me?" I knew he was trying to lighten the mood. I shook my head.

" He doesn't even like you!" He chuckled.

"Ya your probably right. You should have seen him when I was dating your Pop." He gave a laugh before the room got that awkward silence. I took a deep breath.

"Why-why did you...hit Poppa?" I almost never called Pop that unless I was completely scared. Dad ran his hand thru his hair again.

"When we were yelling...when _I_ was yelling. Your Poppa said somethings that I didn't want to hear. Things I prayed that weren't true. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop it were ever it was coming from...and I just..." He trailed off and I knew if I pushed him to much he would crumple.

"I still love you." My Dad wasn't one for warm, fuzzy, moments. That was all Pop.

"And I you."

"Pop still loves you. He just got scared." Dad snorted.

"Like I gave his a reason not to. I **hit** him! In his **state**, I could of-" He cut himself off at the last second and I was shore he was hiding something.

We sat there in silence for a long time until I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I was about to fall asleep when the front door opened slowly. Dad jumped up and I headed after him. Pop stood at the doorway sniffing. Dad ran forward and scooped him up as he lay his head on top of Pop's.

It was like that broke them. Dad started crying and Pop just sobbed. I ran forward with tears pouring down my face too. I hugged Pop from behind.

"I'm sorry..." Pop voice died at the end but Dad shook his head.

"No baby. It wasn't your fault. I'm so sorry baby. So sorry." We held each other for a few moments before we let go and Pop looked at me.

"Oh I kept you up so late. I'm sorry. You can stay home tomorrow sweety if you want." Pop said as he wiped at his face.

"I'll stay home as well and maybe we can have cocoa night together." Dad said with a smile.

"That would be nice." I said. Pop smiled at me.

"We should all head to bed It's late." I than just realized how sleepy I was. We all headed to our respective bedrooms after that but I had one thing on my mind before I fell asleep.

What were they going to say about my failed English test?


	2. First Time Flash Back

Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? I'm not getting any money Your not getting any money! No one is getting any money!

Author's Note: You know your tired when all the than's in your notebook turn out being spelled Yhen. For this fic Lockhart was a teacher in 1st year and not 2nd this will make a difference later. Sorry if there is a lot of typos or switched words. I might have a learning disorder making me always read by context. When most people learned b-u-t-t-o-n-s spelled buttons and that the were little plastic things that kept your shirt closed. I learned that like what is shone on this website http:/ www . Eyetricks . Com /word jumble . htm (Take out the spaces). Reviews about misspellings and incorrect words are always welcome. If you have any questions just PM me! Now on with the fic!

I woke up from my blissful sleep full of endless food to stuff my face with. I lazily glanced and my alarm clock. 10:47am. No problem, I still had plenty of time to get to schoo-. Shit! I jumped up and hit the ground running. I pulled on yesterdays jeans and grabbed a somewhat not-so-smelly t-shirt. I was still trying to get the shirt on when I tripped and tumbled down the stairs. Foot steps sounded down the hallway as I rubbed at the back of my head.

"Oh sweety! What happened?" I looked up to see Pop crouching down to look at my head and Dad behind him looking concerned. Shouldn't they be at work by now? It was Frida-. Oh...

"Dame." I muttered as Pop started checking me over for a concussion. His hands wondered around his head and I hiss as he brushes the bump back there. He gets closer and I just _know_ he's going to try to 'kiss it better' like he did when _I was five_! I shrug him off.

"I'm fine Pop, I just fell!" I snapped. I hate it when he treats me like some two year-old. It bugs me. Dad is chuckling as Pop gets up with a frown.

"I'm surprised your up. You sleep like the dead on weekends?" I got up and gave a stretch.

"I forgot I was staying home." I said with a yawn and Pop smiled.

"Well, me and your father made brunch today. Ans since we haven't eaten ether. For once will all be together!" Dad bit his lip and turned away at that. I think he still feels guilty about last night. Than I remembered something.

"Pop? You forgot to take your medication last night. Did you take it this morning?" Pop and Dad glanced at each other before Dad answered as we headed to the kitchen.

"Your Pop started a new medication this month. He'll be going to the hospital every now and than. They'll give him a needle and he'll be good until next time." It was confusing. Pop could just give himself the needle no probs-. So I asked.

"The doctors think that I might just not take the shot so I wont get any of the side-effects." Pop sounded like stone as he said this.

"Well what _are_ the side-effects? I need to know these things so i don't freakout when you turn blue with green polka-dots!" Pop chuckled and Dad out right laughed.

"That would be a bit shocking but alas no seeing a blue and green me. Some side-effects are morning sickness, cravings, mood-swings." Dad leaned in to me and stage whispered.

"The last one is going to be a pain in my arse!" I bust out laughing and Dad got a glare from Pop.

"Yes, well, ha ha, lets all make fun of the ill one!" Pop turned his nose up at Dad. It just made us laugh harder and Dad clutch at his side. Through my blurry vision I could see Pop shaking with laughter.

After we had relaxed a bit and ate brunch I headed up stairs to get a head start on my math project. I still remember most of what happened the first time Pop had a seizure. I would have been five maybe six at the time. Pop was living with Dad because Pop dropped out of high school. They were just friends than.

I had padded into the kitchen looking for a snack, or I was probably going to try and steal a cookie, and Pop was there. He was just standing there minding his one business. So I grabbed at his pant leg and tugged but he didn't look at me. I pocked his but he didn't move so I looked up at him and he was just...blinking. Pop was just staring off into space with a blank look on his face. His jaw was open a little and he stayed like that for a few more minutes.

Than all hell broke loos

He came out of his trance in a instant and looked around frantically until his eyes fell upon me. I forgot most of what happened next but his face is still crystal clear in my mind and all the fear that was written on it.

The rest is sorta blurry. I know Pop picked me up and brought me to his bedroom but that's it. Dad said that we would have been there for at least three hours because when he came home we were still there.

Dad told me that when he came into the room me and Pop where under the bed with a blanket wrapped around us. Apparently I wasn't scared at all, I thought it was a game or something! Pop on the other hand was terrified. Dad said it took him hours to get him to come out from under the bed.

Only a month later Pop had his second seizure. I was showing him a drawing I had made when he started blinking again. He wouldn't react to me so I went to Dad. It must have been Saturday or Sunday because he was home.

'Pops acting funny again.' I had said. Dad at first thought I meant that Pop was just goofing off or teasing me. But when I said again he went running. When Dad got there he crouched down to look at Pop. The second he sow his eyes blinking Dad picked Pop up and drove him to the hospital.

It took many years, hundreds of medications and thousands of appointments before the doctors confirmed that Pop had epilepsy. It had been so long since the last time I went to the hospital with them that I had forgotten. I forget that once a month Dad has to go get more medication or that Pop goes to the hospital once every two months. I wonder what would have happened if Pop hadn't been diagnosed?

Pop says it would have ended up being the same. He would have eventually ended up leaving the hospital to work on his own. Dad would have still been a cop or whatever and I would definitely still be in high school. But anyway enough about the past on with the present.

I looked at my backpack sitting there beside my desk. It was daring me to open it and give Dad that notice about parent-teacher day. Dad hates parent-teacher day, mostly because Pop flat out refuses to go to any of them. When I was in primary Dad was going to be out late so Pop had to go meet my teacher. When he got there and told them he was my Pop...

They flipped.

They accused my Pop of kidnapping me and forcing me to say he was my father. We ended up having to go to court.

We won in no time.

Dad gave the judge maybe one folder, two at the most, filled with documents. They were all official papers and health records about how my Pop was really my Pop and things like that. The judge checked to see that the forms were legit and the case was closed. All would have been OK but Pop is now scared so to 'be on the safe side' he doesn't go.

I dig through my backpack until I found the crumpled up piece of blue paper. I open it and read the first line.

_Attention all parents/guardians,_

_ Both parents/guardians __**must**__ attend the upcoming parent-teacher meeting..._

...

Shit.

I jumped up to go find Dad and give this to him. I nearly fell on my face because of my dirty socks littering the floor. I gave a _completely_ manly yelp before getting back up and smoothly walking down the hall.

Dad was in his study, probably working on his new book. When I tell people my Dad wrights book and lives with an other man people think that he wrights hard-core slash novels that are occasionally interrupted by a plot dealing with two detectives. But my Dad doesn't wright stuff like that (thank god!) He wrights about cats. Well cats and other felines, but mostly house cats.

We have a cat somewhere in our house. I named him so the cats name is Cat. Dad thinks its a stupid name and Pop says its cute that I named it all by my self. I think Cat is an orange tabby...maybe...we don't see him much but he eats the food we put out for him.

Yep, Dad was in his study. He's all hunched over his desk writing. His dark hair is in his eyes again. Pop says that that's the main reason why Dad needs such good glasses.

"Dad?" I asked. I sow him stiffen before turning around in his oak chair to look at me.

"What is it? I'm at a crucial part in my writing and I need to get back to it soon." I just raised my eyebrow at that.

"Dad you write non-fiction about house cats. How can you be at a crucial part. _And that Sir Pounce A Lot than jump on the table!_ Oooooo so intense." Dad glared at me and shook his head.

"You wouldn't understand but never mind... What did you come to give me?" I walked in and handed him the newsletter. He must have read just the first line because he put it down shortly after I gave it to him.

"You'll just have to tell him." He said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What? Why me? Why not you, you're his partner?" I yelled. He gave me back the paper.

"And you're his son, you do it." Dad leaned back in his chair with a smirk on his face.

"But-but I'm not going! You are! You do it!" I point at him. He looked back at me with doe eyes.

"Do what?" He asked innocently.

"Tell Pop!"

"About what?"

"Parent-teacher day!" My eye was starting to twitch.

"There is a parent-teacher day coming up? When?" I ground my teeth and stomped out of the room. Some help he was.

I walked in to the living room where Pop was sitting reading a magazine. At first he didn't react to my presence in the room so I walked over in front of him.

"Pop?" I asked. He didn't look up so I grabbed his face with my hands and pulled him up to look at me. I was getting worried. Was he having an other seizure?

I looked into his eyes...

And he was blinking at me...

AN: Dun dun daaaa. What is going to happen? Is Draco OK? The first person to say were I got _ Sir Pounce A Lot _from gets a cookie.


	3. Real Time Blinking

Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? I'm not getting any money Your not getting any money! No one is getting any money!

Author's Note: Hmmm no one has been able to get the _Sir Pounce A Lot _reference yet. Maybe I need to up the ammo. The first person who gets it will...um...lets see...oh I know! I will answer **one** question from the first person who gets it right. I will answer in as much detail as I can (with in reason) and I will give you a clue...its from a video game ; ) I understand that most kids don't go through puberty until that are 11 or so but I stared getting breasts when I was eight so I would have started when I was seven or so please don't judge solely on that. The confusing bits will be understandable in time.

"Oh I'm sorry Erick I didn't see you walk into the room." I gave a gust of air and fell on top of him making him fall backwards on the sofa.

"Hay, I love you and all but you were a lot smaller last time I was your jungle-Jim and now you're kinda heavy." He gave a laugh and I glared at him.

"I thought you were having a seizure." I grumbled. Pop frowned and I could practically feel his concerning stair.

"I'm sorry about that but I was just reading with my music. I didn't mean to frighten you." Pop's hand came up to rub the back of my head. I took a deep breath and tried to cool down. Dame that was scary. I nearly had a heart attack.

"So, why were you coming to see me? Was it about cocoa night because if it is we will be having it after supper. Your father will be there too." I smile, Pop cares so much about cocoa night. We just talk and yet he can't go a week without it.

"No its not about cocoa night Pop. I have something for you." Pop looks at me with surprise.

"Oh! Why are you giving me something?" Pop's eyes glinted at me. He loves surprises. On my birthday, I think he enjoys the unwrapping more than I do!

"Its not a gift Pop, sorry." I see his face drop for a moment before he shrugs it off. I reach into my back pocket and grab the blue piece of paper.

"Here it is. Um...just promise that you wont freak out when you read it...OK." I passed it to him after he swore on his life that he wouldn't freak.

He broke his promise.

Well parent-teacher day wasn't so bad. OK so that was a lie. After Pop had finished yelling for Dad to come down stairs and see the newsletter and after Dad finished explaining. Our cocoa night turned into a 'What are we going to do! Their going to think I'm a rapist again!' for Pop and a 'Its OK. Everything is going to be fine. They're not going to think your a rapist again' night for Dad. I just sat there and tried to look supportive.

When they finally got to go to parent-teacher day it went off with out a hitch. Well...until English class. When they came home, by the looks on there faces I knew something must have happened. Dad yelled at me for half a hour and than Pop asked me what the reason was that I failed my English test, and if anything was going on at school that he should know about. I think they were trying the good-cop bad-cop routine. And let me tell you...it works!

But that was three weeks ago. Now, nothing really big had happened recently so that means that whatever god up there decided it was a good time to mess with my life.

I waked into the kitchen from my room. It was Saturday so Pop wasn't busy and Dad was at the office doing some paperwork. Pop smiled at me from the island.

"I'm going to be making some chicken Caesar salad and sandwiches for lunch. Would you like some?" I thought about it for maybe a millisecond before answering.

"Ya that would be nice Pop." We talked as he made his lunch and I ate. I started rambling on about my numbskull of a Healthy Living teacher and how he doesn't know what the hell hes talking about. But than I stopped when I noticed that Pop wasn't acknowledging me any more. I looked over and see that he is staring off into space...

Blinking!

I ran over and grabbed the phone to call Dad's work cell.

"Come on, come on Dad pick up." I was jumping up and down with panic. I glanced over at Pop to see that he was still blinking. That was good...well in its own way. At least he wasn't freaking yet.

"Mr. Harry Potter-Malfoy speaking." Dad's voice answered.

"Dad! Thank god you you picked up." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Erick? What is it I'm in an important meeting." I could tell he was frustrated.

"Its Pop, Dad, he's having a seizure." The other end went dead silent.

"Dad? Are you the-" Than there was a huge bang that filled the house and Dad appeared out of the blue in front of me. I'm not joking, he appeared out of nowhere! I wont even try to cover up my reaction.

I screamed like a girl.

Dad covered my mouth whit his hand to keep me quiet. He started trying to talk to me but I couldn't hear him. He repeated himself multiple time until I had stopped panicking enough that I understood him.

"I'll explain all of this after we help your Pop. Erick, do you understand me? I'll explain all soon." I slowly nodded as he took his hand away from my mouth. "Good, now run to our bedroom and grab these things. A pillow, a blanket, the note book beside our bed, on the side table and the pen that goes with it. OK?" I nodded again and ran off.

When I got back Dad was standing beside Pop. "Great job son, now put the pillow and everything else on the coffee table and than come over here." I did so and came back.

"Now help me get him onto the sofa, alright?" I didn't know if he was meaning if I understood or if I was still freaking out. We struggled to pick him up and get him to the sofa. When we finally laid him down his seizure was almost over. Dad put the pillow under his head and the blanket over top. I than passed him the note book and pen. I wasn't shaking when I passed it to him but inside I was like a leaf. I mean my **Dad** just **teleported** into my **kitchen**. If it wasn't for Pop, I would have forested him to enplane the second he pop in.

Dad crouched down beside Pop and stroked his blond hair. Pop's blinking had started to slow before it stopped rather suddenly and he shot up off the sofa. He was breathing hard and started to panic until he sow Dad.

"Shhhh its alright Draco everything is going to be OK. Your safe now." Dad has Pop by the shoulders and is trying to force him bake down but Pop wont budge.

"Where is he? Is he OK? Where is my baby?" Pop has tears running down his face as he screams. I step forward so Pop can see me.

"Hi Poppa." I lifted my hand and waved a little to him. His arms were shaking as he lifted them up and invited me in for a hug. I rushed forward and grabbed his. If it had been another day I might have complained about being squished to death but right then I couldn't care less. Pop rubbed my back and whispered in my ear.

"Your safe, your safe, oh thank god your safe."I sow Dad out of the corner of my eye stand up and crawled onto the sofa with the notebook in tow. He scooted up behind Pop and pulled him flush agents his chest. I sat in Pop's lap and cuddled him from the front.

"Draco." Dad whispered "I need you to tell me what you sow in you vision." I jerked up to look at him and mouthed 'vision' to him. He just raised his hand like a stop sine at me and I knew it wasn't up for discussion until later along with the teleporting thing. Pop swallowed before replying.

"I-I sow a man. No two men. They had metal masks on and were grabbing children. Oh god the children!" Pop closed his eyes and raised his hand to his mouth.

"Draco just try to focus on what you sow, alright?" Pop nodded before continuing.

"Parents where dead, woman raped some of the men were too. All missing their heads and their..." Pop stopped and hugged me tighter wail Dad cradled Pop more. "faces" Pop whispered before starting to sob. Dad rubbed his back some as he spoke.

"Draco I know its horrible to remember but can you say what any of them looked like." I jumped up and glared at Dad before I started yelling at him.

"Would you just give him a brake! He needs to recover first!" Dad looked at me with a face of stone.

"I don't like it ether but we need to do it this way otherwise he will forget somethings. Now sit down and help me comfort him!" I fell down as fast as led. I crawled back into Pop's lap and circled my arms around him.

"Go on Draco" Pop gave a sniff.

"There were ten people in total not counting the people with the masks. Three families, one middle-eastern, one had all blond hair and one was a African family. There were four children, three of them had blond hair the other was black." Pop gave a hick-up and held Dad's hand in a death grip. Dad placed his cheek on top of Pop head.

"Do you know were any of them were? If you do I promise I will ask no more question." Pop nodded.

"They were in England."

AN: Can anyone guess were this is going?


	4. What Dad Really Does

Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? I'm not getting any money Your not getting any money! No one is getting any money!

Author's Note: Sorry it took FOREVER to update but I lost interest for a bit but I'm going to work on it some more! Also I will 100% update faster if I get reviews. I have a total of...one at the moment and even if the review in like "Update please" or "Wow you suck at writing" (which I kinda do) these really do build my confidence up and help me write (some how). Ohhh one last thing. SOMEONE MUST GUESS FOR THE SIR-POUNCE-A-LOT SOON! I will give you one more update chance (That means that next time I update the contest will be over) and for a AMAZING reward you will get to read the next chapter ONE DAY before anyone else. P.S. I mite be changing the summery of this fic soon so just giving you guys the heads up. Now on with the chap.

Dad and Pop lived in England when they were younger. Dad's family had been close to Pop's family years after Dad's parents died. They all moved to North America in 1994 with my grandparents (Pops parents). Dad came with Pop's family and Pop was just dragged along for the ride. Pop told me that the reason why they all moved here was because a man was coming to power and if he got enough power he was going to hurt a lot of people. Dad was so mad when he found out Pop had told me. I would always try to milk my grandparents for information but they refused to talk about it.

It had been a week since Pop had had his seizure (vision) and Dad had still yet to tell me about the teleporting thing. So I decided to remind him. After some grumbling and some pestering Dad finally decided to talk to me. We sat down in the living room with Pop and hot cocoa as he tried to explain it all.

"OK...where to start?" Dad looked towards Pop for help.

"Maybe start with the vision." Pop shrugged and Dad nodded.

"Ya that's a good place. Well your pop doesn't have seizures, he has visions. This can sometimes be referred to as the _sight_, _third eye_ or the _sixth seance_. Your pop didn't start getting them until he was thirteen or so. He sees the people working for a man called Voldemort. Now, Voldemort is dead and a has been since I was about one. In fact it was because of me that he died. But the men working for him are devoted to him and are still alive.

"When your Pop was fourteen people were dieing left, right and center because of these men. This would make your Pop get visions all the more, so we ran. We fled the country because it seamed the farther we were from all that death the less visions he had."

"Now these men didn't kill people with guns or rocket launchers like in the games you play. They killed people with magic. Everyone on the earth has magic in them but you need the right amount to be able to use it. Your pop and I went to school to learn magic because we were what's called wizards. Both of your grandmothers were witches and all of your grandfathers were wizards. You didn't get to go to a magic school because you were born what we call a squib. This means you were born with out magic or with vary little." He gave a pause and looked to me for questions.

"I thought you said everyone had magic and why didn't you tell me all the before?"

"Well everyone does have magic." Pop said "But the people born without **any** magic tend to ether die at a young age or the parents have a miscarriage. We didn't tell you all this because we had planed to wait until you were seventeen. We wanted to tell you but we didn't think you would understand it all. When we abandoned the magical world we didn't have anywhere to really go. My family had only known the magical world and we only had estates in England and France. Harry had lived with non-magical people called muggles and they weren't going to help us any."

"Now not all of that was true. We didn't _completely_ abandon the magical world. I went to school here and Draco went to a highly educated magical teachers to help him with his visions. I later became, essential, a magical cop. And because of Draco's visions, my department catches most of the...horrors that the men do." I looked up at the thought of my dad's words.

"So, what do you _really_ do?" Dad ran a hand through his hair and gave a sigh.

"Well...I work like every other cop. I help people, I go through paper work and I stop crime. The only difference is that instead of having a gun I have my wand." My eyes widened at the thought of a real wand!

"You should show him your wand Harry." Pop rested his hand on Dad's arm. He nodded and rolled up his sleeve to revile...a holster? It wasn't what I was expecting until he undid some of the leather straps and pulled out a long, thin piece of wood. It looked shinny and had a warped sort of feeling around it. I liked it.

"Do you have one Pop?" Pop nodded and rolled up his sleeve as well to show a similar holster. He undid similar buckles and pulled out a longer, more slender polished piece of wood. His wand gave off an era of power and superiority.

"Do you always have them on you? I mean you both go swimming in the summer and were t-shirts. So were would you put them?" I put my chin on the palm of my hand as I thought about it. Pop answered my question.

"We always keep them on us at all times. It has always been dangerous for us so we make shore we won't be taken lightly. We ether strap them to our chests or lower backs but when we go swimming or something we tend to strap them to our upper legs. I'm a little less paranoid than your father so I just keep mine in our bedroom. But because of the resent vision we all need to be vigilant and on our guard." Dad tightened his grip on Pop's arm and Pop laid his head on Dad's shoulder for comfort.

"Is that why you enrolled me in martial arts classes?"

"Yes, that is one reason. Another was so you could defend someone else as well as your self." Dad finished and pop bit his lip again.

"Do you have anymore questions at the moment?" I thought about it before I remembered something that had been bugging me for sometime.

"If you don't really have seizures than why are you taking a new medication now?" Dad winced and Pop sat up straighter.

"You know how babies are made, well in our world men can become impregnated and reproduce. Well, I got pregnant about a month ago and I need to have frequent visits to the doctor. That we just an excuse we gave until we told you." I blinked at that

"But" I asked "Your both men how does-and where would-I just don't understand how that could happen." I flung my head in my hands.

"Its complicated, to complicated to explain today If you want to learn more we ahve lots of books." Dad tilted his head to the side so I could see him talk. I lifted my head back up to look at them.

"Ya that would be great Dad." He nodded and got up to get them.

"Do you have any questions honey?" Pop placed his hand on my arm."Yes, why do you have the visions and are they hereditary so could I get them?" Pop bit his lip and looked down at the floor

"I hope you don't get them but I can't promise you anything. Most people only use about 10% of their brain power. I use about 11.529% of mine. Most of that goes to being able to handle the visions. Only 0.2% is for the actual visions. This percent lets me see about six months ahead in time at the most. Other people like me could see farther but they tent to die young because their minds can't handle the energy or the magic." I leaned forward in my chair.

"Why do they look so much like seizures?" Pop shrugged.

"I don't know. Harry knew that one of his teachers had visions. Well it was more like they had two or three visions. But when she had one her voice would get hash and raspy. She would also speak in riddles. I have what they call memory visions where she would have had historical vision." I squinted at that.

"What is the difference?" I asked.

"My visions, like you saw are more like old memories that were long forgotten until than. Her visions are what non-magical people tend to think of or what Hollywood made them look like." Dad walked into the room with three books in his arms.

"There" He said as he laid them out on the table. "This one is about parenting but in chapter seven there is some stuff on male pregnancy." He said pointing to the one on top. "This one is all about male pregnancy and its complications. I would recommend reading that one first and you are welcome to doing you own research online if you wish. Here is my laptop if you want it." He passed the laptop towards me.

"Is there anything you want to ask?" Pop asked as I stood up.

I shook my head. "If I think of anything I will just ask." Dad nodded and helped Pop up and we all went of to our respective bedrooms. I climbed up the stairs and flopped onto my bed.

Had I really handled that all so well? In my head I was screaming WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS! I was still in shock I think, it really just made sense. When I was sitting there I wasn't really there. I was somewhere at wasn't there. You know what I mean? Now it was all coming back to me. My parents had told me they were wizards. That is just messed up. I think I'm in an asylum.

This was just too much to take in. Everything I had known was a lye. I don't know how I'll be able to go to school. We'll be moving soon so I should be ready by than. We would always move after pop had a seiz-vision. Now I understand why, Dad would want to help the people Pop saw so we would go to were they were. Now we were going to move to England. Talk about CRAZY!

I reached down toward Dad's laptop and searched male pregnancy. I clicked on the first link below.

_Mail's being preggers is not normal. Incest and other nasty gross stuff make it happen and..._I gave up. This was useless. The first few links were like this so I just picked up one of the books.

_Male pregnancies can happen but they are rare in wizards today. This trait is passed through genetics via the the Y chromosome. At first wizards could not become pregnant but over time through inbreeding and the lack of witches wizards have adapted to being able to give birth. For a man to become impregnated their counter part must release their semen into the other man's..._I skipped the next few lines until the book started talking about the growth.

_The fetes in the premade womb and the growth continues just like as if inside a woman's. The only difference is near the end. When the father starts having contractions..._I stopped reading and flipped the book over. Oh it wasn't a real book at all. It was just a essay paper. I thought as I plopped it on the floor.

Sometimes when my Dad is it his study and he gets writer's block he'll print off university kids papers and give them to Pop to bind. When I was little I didn't understand it at all but now I think Dad does it just so Pop can have something to bind. Dad says that when Pop was little he parents showed him how to bind books so that now is his way of relaxing. I picked the book back up and started reading again. I blinked owlishly at what it said. To find AB and AC you need what? I flipped it back over. Advanced Math. Man I was so out of it. I must still be in shock of something. I picked up one of the other books.

_Chapter one_(thank god)_ an introduction to male pregnancy. Because of the magical energies swirling inside of a pure blood wizards abdomen after about a year after puberty starts the man can be able to conceive a child. The man can become pregnant if during sexual intercourse, semen is released inside the..._I skipped a few lines again.

_Once a month the man's body produces a makeshift womb for the fetes. Slowly the fetes will grow just like as if inside a woman's only men may experience more sever cases of morning sickness, mood swings, cravings and especially back pain. When approaching the last trimester the man should be aware that he may experience false labour and sudden contractions. Because of this common occurrence for the last three to four moths the carrier should for his health and the unborn child's to go on bed rest. _I bit my lip just thinking of Pop having to lay in bed for months! I just knew he was going to hate it.

_Contractions will be more intense and painful because of the lack of lower body strength. There are two ways the baby can be born. C-section or through being expelled through the anus..._I froze and reread that last line four times. Through his...but wouldn't that...only one word could describe how I thought that was going to feel like.

Ouch

I read through some more of the book before snickering and putting the book down. My snickering soon turned into giggling than laughing until I was just bursting my gut.

Pop was going to get breasts!


	5. You Were How Old?

Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? I'm not getting any money Your not getting any money! No one is getting any money!

Author's Note: Sorry it took FOREVER to update but I lost interest for a bit but I'm going to work on it some more! Also I will 100% update faster if I get reviews. I have a total of...one at the moment and even if the review in like "Update please" or "Wow you suck at writing" (which I kinda do) these really do build my confidence up and help me write (some how).

It's been a few months, I think two, sense I learned about magic. We've moved back to England with my grandparents. Dad said once he told his boss about pop's vision he booked Dad a first-class ticket and a five star hotel. Dad refused to go without his family.

It didn't really mater much to me if we moved. I never had any close friends or anything at school. When Dad told Pop he wasn't going to go with out us Pop said he wouldn't go without his parents. So Dad told his boss to book five second-class ticket and to get rid of the five-star hotel because we had an estate there.

When we got on the plain Pop had just started to get morning sickness (it was more like all day sickness) so the got sick every thirty minuets. Grandma doesn't like anything other that first-class and Grandfather refused to pay for that. My grandfather hates plains. I now know that it is because he doesn't understand how they fly. I tried explaining but he didn't understand it.

Dad was, by far, the worst on the plain. When he wasn't comforting Pop he was squeezing my hand to death. Dad says he loves flying but only on a broom. Otherwise he is just a jumble of nerves.

When we touched down it was a madhouse trying to get to the door. Once we were out it got worse. Grandmother's bags got lost so Grandfather had a hissy-fit. When we finally got out stuff we had to board an other plain and the cycle just kept on going.

After we touched down for a second time a limo picked us up. Not just any limo, but a stretch-limo. I asked Dad if his boss payed for in.

"No, here the Malfoy's have more money than you can ever imagine. Just wait until you see the manor." Dad was right, the manor was huge! I asked if pop had lived there and how many rooms there were.

"I don't know." He replied " I lived there from when I was born to when we moved overseas. We only ever lived in the west wing and I know that the west wing has over a hundred bedrooms each with an on suite." My mouth hung open and pop tutted at me. "Now don't go catching flies with that. Besides the one in France is much bigger."

For the next few weeks before summer brake I spent most of my time exploring the house. One time I got lost for over three days. Pop flipped and when they found me he was hysterical. But that was weeks ago now there is only fourteen days left of summer break. Dad was cooped up in his study. His next book was due in three days so he was ether revising it or signing form for the new school I was gong to.

Now, I had just finished signing all of my parts on the forms when I noticed Dad's birthday. July 31st 1980. I frowned and did the math. Dad must have filled out Pop's birthday wrong in his spot because there is no way Dad was born in 1980. That would have made him eleven when I was born.

I picked up the papers and headed towards Dad's office so he could correct them. I opened the door and looked around. He wasn't there but I heard Pop talking to someone down stairs. As I popped in Dad was at the table with papers spread everywhere and Pop was by the counter cutting vegetables. I passed him the papers.

"You filled out your birthday wrong. It says that you were born in 1980." Dad nodded and Pop stopped chopping.

"That's right." I froze in place.

"What do you mean 'it's right'. That doesn't make any sense." My fists tightened.

"I was eleven when you were born."

"I t can't be that would make you and Pop the same age." Pop turned to face us.

"I'm really older that Harry by just under two months. Erick, you are just as much my son as you are Harry's" That made me flip out.

"What! How could you not tell me this? How could you not tell me that you were also my father.? I don't understand how this could happen! You both were eleven? Could you even get pregnant at the time?" Pop wrapped his arms around himself and Dad stood up.

"Erick, you don't understand. I didn't get Draco pregnant . I just made you mine." I gave him a look that reeked of confusion.

"The minute a man becomes pregnant he knows. During the first few months of school I would be sent down to a teacher's room for detention. He would hurt me Erick in ways I don't like to talk about. One day he didn't wait until detention. Harry found me in a hallway crying because I knew I was pregnant. I bagged Harry to talk the baby but he refused. I than asked him to change the baby. He didn't know how but agreed anyway. It took weeks to get the ritual right but nine months later you were born." I didn't speak.

"Erick you have to understand, you were meant to know. We thought you did but we never meant to hurt you. The teacher was excellent at memory charms. Every time he was done he would wipe Draco's memory so he wouldn't tell." I backed up as Pop stepped closer.

"How could I have known? I just found out about magic and how men could have babies! How would I have just assumed that you two were my real fathers?"

"Erick I never meant-"

"No stop it! Saying your sorry isn't going to help! I got over magic. I got over men and babies but I can not just let this slip by!" I stomped out of the room and didn't look back. As I ran up to my room tears started to fall down my face.

Now I finally understood how those kids in movies felt when their parents tell them they are adopted. How could parents do that to their kids? As I cried into my pillow I could hear yelling from downstairs.

I couldn't really hear what was being said but I knew it was Pop. Pop never yells he only ever gets that disapproving frown on his face. The yelling stopped all of a sudden and I thought that Dad hit Pop again until I heard stomping passed my door. It was silent for a moment than there was a soft knock at my door.

"Who is it?" I grumble.

"It's me." Grandmother. Great, just who I wanted to see. Right.

"Come in." I mumble into my pillow. She opened the door and closed it behind her. She always looked really young to me but now I understand. She stood there for a moment before speaking.

"Do you still love you parents?" I lifted my head to look at her.

"Of course I do." I said before flopping back down.

"You know they love you?" I nodded.

"Will you forgive them?" I gave a whimper.

"Yes." I could hear my voice shake and started to cry again. She came over and placed her hand on my back. As she slowly rubbed I started to relax.

"When you Poppy came home saying he was pregnant he would cry for days. Harry came to live with us to help Draco but he wouldn't stop crying. There seemed to be nothing we could do. We called in Doctor after Doctor to help him cope but it never seemed to get any were. One time he broke down at the dinner table. Your Grandfather and Harry just left so it was just him and me. I took him into my lap like I use to when he was small. I would stroke his back and sing to him. From that point on tit was the only way to comb him down." When she was finished talking I was done crying.

"What point are you trying to make." I sat up and squinted at her.

"I was not making a point. Will you forgive them now?" I thought about it. There was no way I could stay mad at Pop or Dad. I nodded and stood up.

"They will both be in their bedroom." I heard her say as I left the room.

When I got to the door I put my ear beside it to listen. At first I thought it was silent but than I hear soft sobbing coming from what sounded like Pop. I opened to door and looked inside.

Pop was on the bed, photo albums all around him. Dad was beside himcircleing him from behind. I knocked on the door frame and watched as their atenchen swong towards me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. Pop gave a sniff before started to cry, He ran towords me with his arms opened wide. As he huged me I felt tears run down my face.

"Your wrong. I'm sorry, so sorry for not telling you. I should have told you sooner. No you should have known from the start. I'm so sorry Erick." Dad came over and hugged me as well.

"We're so sorry. WE never meant to hurt you."

"I love you." I said crying.

"I love you too." Dad kissed the top of my head. Pop was crying to much to talk. I know he loved me though. He lifted his head and tried to talk but sobs just came out.

"I love you too Pop."


End file.
